Once Upon a Silver Heart: A Once Upon a Time Flash-Fiction Septet
by LA Knight
Summary: In his life, Prince Nuada Silverlance has had seven great loves. Their names are Polunochnaya, Ethine, Keahilele, Shina'kin, Vassa, Yukihime, and Dylan. Here are seven pieces of their stories. Written for Valentine's Day. Part of the "World of Once Upon a Time" Hellboy fanfiction universe.


**_Author's Note:_**_ A septet is a collection of seven. I decided on seven because seven is a big number in fairy tales (like the 7th son of a 7th son, that sort of thing), and because in his life Nuada has had 7 great romantic loves: Naya, Ethine, Shina'kin, Keahilele, Vassa, Yukihime, and Dylan. So I wrote one little flash fiction for each of them, to give some hints about who they were, how they met Nuada, blah blah. Some are sad, some are happy, some are a bit of both. I'll do more later on, and also touch on these great loves in the main fic as well as the variations._

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**Once Upon a Silver Heart**

**A **_**Once Upon a Time**_** Flash-Fiction Septet**

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**_Naya_**

He wonders how long it can last  
These carefree days, this hope, this happiness

Naya is like a crisp cool wind  
Blowing away the shadows that cling to him  
From his memories of slaughter and starvation and sorrow

Her kisses taste like winter melon  
Her hair smells like white poppies

When they send him to distant battlefields,  
He carries the blossoms with him  
Close to his heart.

When he trudges into his tent,  
Armor caked in filth and sword stained red,  
He finds a letter from her.  
It helps lift his heart out of the charnel house mud.

Twenty years, he has courted her now.  
Twenty years, he has loved her.  
Twenty years, she has loved him back,

And is that not a miracle?  
A miracle that he,  
Nuada the Coward,  
Nuada the Weak,  
Nuada Kinslayer,  
Should find someone who loves him so?

When this latest war ends and they all march home,  
For once it is not his sister he looks for first,  
Not familiar golden eyes identical to his own,  
But silver eyes like a cat's,  
Warm as a winter fire,  
Dancing like snowflakes on the wind.

**_Ethine_**

Lady Ethine loves violets,  
So a lovelorn prince shapes blooms from amethysts,  
Emerald leaves and yellow diamond stamens  
He breathes the scents of spring flowers into the stones

It is a spell Naya taught him long ago

Lady Ethine has hair that falls to her waist like a waterfall of moonbeams  
So Nuada fashions an elegant comb of obsidian filigree  
A comb fit for a princess,  
Fashioned of crystallized night  
And he sets it with tiny stars,  
Chips of sapphire and amethyst and glittering white diamond

Lady Ethine likes beautiful things  
Lady Ethine likes fairy tales and ballads  
She coos over the amethyst flowers  
Kisses him when he gifts her the comb  
Graces his arm when he visits the Seelie Court of northeastern Elphame,  
Dressed fine as a crown prince should be

But there is always something distant there

Nuada adores her  
He loves her  
But he sometimes wonders  
Does _she_ truly love _him?_

**_Keahilele_**

He has never in his life been lava-sledding  
He has no wish to play the game now  
But it is quite the thing to watch

They are not fae as he is, these five women  
Laughing as they race barefoot through the grass  
Their bright-woven skirts swishing about their strong, brown ankles  
They are not human, either  
He does not know what they are  
_(Nuada will not learn the word "kupua" until much later)__  
_But they are a delight to watch as they run and laugh

He doesn't know the other four whose island this is  
But he knows Keahilele, his flying fire  
The one who had saved him from the hungry sea

It is so easy to forget the blood on his hands for a few moments  
Watching her slip along obsidian paths down the mountain  
Flinging herself into the brilliant blue ocean  
Only to leap out again, the water bejewling her coppery skin  
Dripping like rain from the thick waves of her dark hair

She is so beautiful and bold  
And reckless and kind  
And ruthless and impossible

Keahilele waves to him,  
The clumsy shell-bracelet on her wrist clacking  
She wears it, she says, because he made it for her  
Like a knight of his kingdom wearing his lady's favor  
It makes him grin as he waves back at her  
And then she is throwing herself upon the sled once more  
Blasting down the dark slope of cooled lava,  
Whooping as the others race to catch up to her

Here in the southern islands of Menehune,  
Prince Nuada has found peace again  
It is almost enough to make him forget his heartbroken sister,  
Forget his cold, remote, disapproving king  
Forget Naya's sorrow and Ethine's vicious hatred

But when she looks at him, Keahilele,  
His flying fire,  
Sometimes  
There is something terribly sad in her liquid brown eyes  
And he feels,  
For just a moment,  
Like his time is running out

**_Shina'kin_**

"I think I'll keep you, forest prince," the Iaran Elf tells him,  
And Nuada laughs  
And kisses her at the edge of her bed heaped in soft leopard furs.

"Will I suit, do you think?"

Her smile is a bright flash of cat-sharp teeth.  
"I think you will. You're a proper warrior, for one."

"Oh?"  
He can smell her scent, green things and rain.  
As she draws close to him, closer, he murmurs, "Many thanks."

"You're a proper man, gentle and good to me," she says, and pushes him.  
He lets himself fall back upon her bed as she moves to lean over him.  
"A proper one for my boy to learn from."

Sweet warmth washes through his chest  
Even as hungry, desperate heat prickles under his skin.

"You honor me with such praise."

Another sharp, white grin, a flash of cat-sharp fangs.  
She pins his shoulders  
And he can just feel the tips of her claws prick his bare skin.

"A proper warrior, a proper man, and a proper lover.  
Yes, I'll keep you, my forest prince."

As she leans in to kiss him,  
Her thick black hair falling around them in a dark curtain,  
He whispers, "Then I am yours, beloved."

**_Vassa_**

His world had ended once in blood-soaked earth  
Then again in blazing fire, steam, and the screams of the dying  
And once more when the rain had fallen on the ashes of his life

But now, frost forming in his hair and on his lashes,  
Numbness spreading through the tip of his nose, the tips of his ears,  
He thinks he might die of this cold,  
His world ending once and for all in ice.

_How,_ he wonders, _does she just _**_frolic_**_ through the snow like that?_

"Come on, Tuatha," the woman says,  
Flashing him an impish smile.  
Her hair is so very red,  
Copper and gold and auburn,  
Silken flames he wishes he could warm himself against.  
"We're almost there!"

"I c-c-can't feel m-my fingers,"  
He manages through chattering teeth.

At that, she stops.  
It's so unexpected, he nearly trips on a snowdrift.

"Here," she says, and strips off her mittens.  
Beneath them, she still wears her gloves.  
Nuada wonders why he didn't think to wear mittens over _his_ gloves.

She rubs his numb hands between hers,  
And it's as if he holds his hands out to a crackling fire.  
Warmth and feeling tingle in the skin of his fingers.  
She shoves the mittens onto his gloved hands and laughs.

"W-what's so f-f-funny?"

"You look miserable, poor lad,"  
She says with another laugh.  
"Here."

And she leans in,  
Tugs down the cloth of his coat covering his face,  
And kisses him.

He has known Vassa for less than a sennight.  
She'd saved him from the wilds of mortal Siberia  
And promised to guide him to a safe place for the fae.  
Less than a week, they have journeyed together.

But her mouth is so very warm,  
Spilling heat into his lips, his face, his _ears_ thank the gods,  
Down his throat into his chest and belly.

He would kiss her for eternity if it kept the cold at bay.  
He has never known a cold so bitter as a Siberian winter.

So she kisses him,  
A kiss filled with magic and heat,  
And he lets her,  
And he kisses her back,  
And he thinks to himself  
That he could perhaps get used to kissing this fae woman  
With her hair like fire and eyes like a glacial ocean at night.

She breaks from him with another laugh,  
Lifts the neck of his coat to cover his face again,  
And spins away

"If you want another, keep walking!"

Perhaps he ought not to, but he can't help it -  
He licks his lips.

They taste of strawberries and December frost.  
They taste of applewood smoke and starlight.  
They taste of a promise he can't quite catch - yet.

He hurries to catch up to her.

**_Yukihime_**

She is only a voice in the dark at first  
And he cannot banish the fear cramping in his belly because he cannot see her  
He cannot see _anything__  
_There is only shadows against painful, ragged gray

"My eyes-" and the terror in his voice shames him.

Her touch is light as falling snow upon his cheek.  
Her voice is like silk, and soothes him.

"They are hurt but healing.  
You are ill.  
You must rest."

"Where am I?"

"In my cave where it is safe," she says.  
"I must wash your eyes to treat the burns.  
Try to be still."

Burns.  
He remembers the burning.  
He remembers Wink roaring for him to duck his head,  
Screaming as the scalding air slammed into them both.

He had looked for only a moment upon that poisonous hell,  
But his eyes had burned  
And kept burning  
Even when he threw up an arm to shield them  
From that white-hot demon fire.  
His skin had blistered and his eyes…

"Are you...a healer?"  
It hurts to speak.  
His throat burns like his eyes.

"Yes."

Something cool and smelling of cherries touches his eyelids.  
He hisses once.  
The burning in his eyes begins to fade.  
When a cool, smooth liquid is dripped onto his eyes,  
Somehow it doesn't hurt at all.

She offers him a porcelain cup,  
Sets it gently to his lips when his hands will not hold it.  
The liquid inside rich and thick as fresh milk,  
Sweet as cherry cordial,  
It eases the heat in his throat.

She is gentle as flower petals drifting on a spring wind  
As she smooths salve over his skin  
Washes his aching eyes again  
Bandages his burns  
And covers his eyes with silk wrapping.

He does not know where Wink is.  
He does not know where _he_ is.  
As it stands, he can do nothing but surrender to this woman.

"What...is...your name? What...are...you?"

Her hands on his shoulders still for an instant,  
Then return to their task.

"I am a snow-maiden, Tuatha-_sama_," she says.  
"I am Yukihime of the Nura Clan."

The name strikes something in him.  
He does not know why or how,  
But somehow he knows he can trust this woman.

Dredging up what he can remember of Onibi custom,  
Head muddled by medicine and pain and exhaustion,  
He says, "_Arigatou gozaimasu, Nura-san_."

She laughs,  
Like water babbling beneath the ice of a frozen river.

"You are welcome, Tuatha-_sama_.  
Now, you should try to sleep."

He does not think he can,  
But somehow...he does.  
And for the first time in centuries,  
He _only_ sleeps, and does not dream.

**_Dylan_**

She loves him.

Stars and Fates and shades,  
His little mortal healer _is in love with him_.  
It is impossible to believe.

It is more than he could have ever hoped.  
It is more than he could have ever deserved.

He has no idea what to do,  
What to say or think.  
He only knows that she loves him as he loves her.

Even though it can never be,  
Even though everything stands against them…  
Dylan finds him worthy of love,

And he thanks any gods that will listen for the miracle of that.


End file.
